


Circular Reasoning

by Zoe Rayne (MontanaHarper)



Category: Invisible Man (TV 2000)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-06-01
Updated: 2005-06-01
Packaged: 2017-10-11 20:14:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/116642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MontanaHarper/pseuds/Zoe%20Rayne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darien doesn't have any plans, but that doesn't stop Bobby from messing with them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Circular Reasoning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tzikeh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tzikeh/gifts).



> **A/N:** Written for Tzikeh, on the occasion of her 36th birthday. Hope it fits. *g* Thanks to Laylah and Minotaur for beta duty, and to Arduinna for helping me wrangle a paragraph into submission.

August in San Diego was hot and sticky, almost hot and sticky enough to make Darien break his rule about wandering casually naked around his apartment. Then he thought about the weirdness that would happen if Hobbes showed up unannounced and just walked in, the way Hobbes tended to do, and he compromised and pulled on a pair of loose shorts.

Which turned out to be a good call, since less than five minutes later Hobbes showed up unannounced and just walked in. Not only did he just walk in, he walked right over to Darien's refrigerator and pulled out the last cold beer, then dropped down onto the couch beside Darien and grinned as he popped the cap.

"Hey there, Hobbes. C'mon in. Have a beer," Darien said, letting the sarcasm drip from his words. Not that it mattered, since Hobbes only noticed these things when he wanted to.

Hobbes saluted Darien with the bottle. "Don't mind if I do," he said and took a drink. "So, what's the plan for today, partner?"

Darien hadn't exactly had a plan for the day, at least not an actual planned kind of plan, and certainly nothing that involved Hobbes. He'd kind of been considering lounging around with a beer, watching some porn, playing a little pocket pool, then maybe taking a nice, cool shower. Hobbes's presence was putting a definite crimp into those not-really-plans.

If there was one thing he'd learned over the course of his partnership with Hobbes, though, it was that subtlety was wasted on the man, so he said, "I was thinking I'd spend the afternoon watching some movies, you know?" He mimed jerking off and winked at Hobbes. "What about you?"

Hobbes blinked. Ha! First point to Darien; he hadn't been sure that was blatant enough, but apparently it was. Any minute now Hobbes would oh-so-casually stand up, explaining that he had things to do, important things that involved being anywhere other than in Darien's apartment. Any minute now.

"Sounds good," Hobbes said, nodding approvingly. "You planning to rent something, or is it going to be nostalgia night with the old favorites?"

This time Darien blinked. Fifteen all, then. He snuck a sideways glance at Hobbes, who was positively _lounging_ at the far end of the couch and looking as cool as it was possible to look on a hot and sticky August afternoon in San Diego. Completely unruffled.

An evil, evil idea struck Darien. An idea so diabolically evil that he never would have considered it except for the fact that if it all went to hell he could blame it on delusions induced by heat stroke.

"Actually, maybe I'll change my plans a little, now that you're here," he said, shifting closer to Hobbes and smiling his best 'flirting with the waitress/cashier/nurse/fill-in-the-blank' smile. He put one hand lightly on Hobbes's forearm where it was stretched out along the back of the couch, and raised his eyebrows in a question.

That got a flicker of reaction from Hobbes. Just a little one, but it was good for a start, so Darien pushed. He slid his fingers up under Hobbes's shirtsleeve, tracing the smooth curve of bicep up to Hobbes's shoulder, and tried not to smirk at the shiver his touch evoked.

"What do you say, Bobby? You up for a little mutually beneficial stress relief?" he asked, low and what he hoped was sultry, his fingers still tracing spirals on Hobbes's skin.

But Hobbes's voice was perfectly level as he answered. "I'm flattered, Fawkes, really, but I do not sleep with straight guys. It's a rule I have."

Darien blinked again. Damn, 30-15 to Hobbes.

"I'm not straight," he said. That much should be obvious even to someone as dense as Hobbes; straight guys didn't usually come on to their male friends. At least none of the straight guys Darien knew, and he was pretty sure that was a reasonably representative sample of heterosexual male America.

"Oh yes you are. The Hobbes gaydar is infallible, and you, my friend, are one hundred percent straight," Hobbes announced with finality, drinking the last swallow of beer and then leaning forward to set the empty bottle on the coffee table. Hobbes had to be the most irritating, infuriating person Darien had ever known—worse than Arnaud, even, and that was saying something.

Darien pushed him back against the couch with one hand. "Trust me on this one. Not straight." He started unbuttoning Hobbes's shirt, only mildly surprised to find a white wife-beater under it.

"Straight as a box of rulers, Fawkes. Don't try to deny it; you'll only embarrass yourself." Hobbes shook his head, apparently unmoved by the eloquence of Darien's arguments so far, though he did make a soft, sharp little noise when Darien's hand closed over the bulge in the front of his khakis.

Hobbes hadn't quite blinked, but Darien counted it anyway: 30 all.

Hobbes's dick seemed to be less convinced of Darien's heterosexuality, or maybe it was just more willing to overlook that little detail in the pursuit of satisfaction. Either way, Darien took advantage of the situation, undoing Hobbes's pants and sliding his hand inside the red polka-dot boxers. Oh, yeah, Hobbes's dick was definitely with the program, no matter what his mouth might say.

"How can you say I'm straight?" Darien asked in what he thought was an eminently reasonable tone. "I'm propositioning you. I have my _hand_ on your dick." He squeezed gently to emphasize his words and Hobbes closed his eyes for a second, then opened them again.

Close enough to a blink, which made the score 30-45 to Darien.

"Now, if you _were_ gay, I'd certainly take advantage of what you're offering, but since you're straight," Hobbes shrugged, almost but not quite the very picture of nonchalance. "No can do."

The shrug was the straw that broke the camel's back. "Bobby, what _possible_ explanation do you have for my hand on your dick that _doesn't_ involve me not being straight?" Darien didn't bother to wait for an answer, but tugged Hobbes's dick free from his boxers and leaned forward to lick a wet stripe from base to tip.

"I was going with this being a new side-effect of the gland," Hobbes said shakily. "Since you're straight and all."

"I'd like to see you put this in a report to the Keeper." Darien licked the same spot again. "'Subject exhibited atypical signs of homosexuality. Specifically, he tried to give me a blowjob.'" He could hear Hobbes's breathing now, harsh and uneven, and he looked up to see Hobbes's eyes closed.

Game to Darien.

"Hey, Bobby," he said conversationally. "I just thought I'd mention that I'm not totally straight. In case that mattered to you."

Hobbes licked his lips but didn't open his eyes. "Is that so?" he said. "Good to know, partner, good to know."


End file.
